Chapter Text
Hermione
One look. One look and six words was all it took for Hermione Granger to absolutely lose it. Without giving Ginny and Lavender the chance to walk away, she slammed her hand down on the wooden tables of the great hall so hard that the plates around her rattled. The normal ambience of dinnertime chatter stopped, and she could feel eyes on her. She did not care.
She slowly stood up and Ginny turned, facing her, and smirked.
“You know what Ginny?” she kept her voice dangerously low, not to be quiet, but so as not to lose her temper.
Hermione stood on shaking legs and faced her once-friend-now-enemy, Ginny Weasly.
“I don't know why it is that you’ve decided to bully me so much this year. Are you jealous of me? Is that it?” Ginny scoffs at Hermione’s words, but she continues anyway.
“No, I'll tell you what I think. I think that you’re angry. I think that you’ve been angry for a long time. You’re tired of being the youngest, the forgotten one, the bottom of the pile. And you think that you can bring yourself to the top by putting me down? I don't think so. You’ve never liked me, and frankly I don't care. You’re upset that your brother paid more attention to me than you, and now you're angry that I don't want him, but he still doesn't give you the attention you want. You are angry, because you are obsessed with Harry Potter, but Harry could care less about you. Harry is kind and he knows what it is to be bullied, and I don't know in what world you thought that he would ever like you if you bullied me. I Think that you are a jealous little girl because when Voldemenrt claimed Hogwarts-” there was a gasp at the mention of the dark lord, “-and we did not take you with us. We left you, and you cannot get over that.”
Ginny was seething now, and lavender had stepped away from her friend, possibly afraid of what she might do.
“You think that I'm weak? That I'm scared of you? I'm not, because I'll tell you what Ginerva , I've fought people crueller than you, with hatred as strong as yours and guess what? I beat them. I killed some of them. I am not afraid of you, some child trying to fit into an adult. You are noy part of my life in any way, and while I seem calm now believe me, there is nothing I wouldn't do to protect my friends, my best friends, and the people I love. So help me Merlin, if you so much as fucking glance at us in the wrong way- and that goes for anyone else in this school as well-” Hermione spoke louder, almost yelling as she glared at her schoolmates before settling back on Ginny, “i will not hold back. I will end you.” Hermione was breathing heavier now, and Ginny looked as though she might cry, “Is that understood?”
Ginny gave the slightest of nods, and with that, Hermione picked up her bookback and stalked out of the room, the entire hall staring at her. And she did not care.
Hermione Granger definitely cared. In fact she was terribly upset. No, not upset, she was angry. Angry at Ron. No matter she had likely signed her own grave by telling off ginny, but it didn't matter. Ron had told people about her scar. That was a secret she wasn’t okay with sharing, she hadn’t even told Pansy or Astoria, and Ron had gone and let everyone know- oh god. Had he told Rita Skeeter too? She made a mental note to get the prophet for the next few days. She hadn't even realised she was walking, where she was heading. All she knew was that she was shaking, she was crying, and she couldn't breathe. She was going to panic.
She could barely see as she raced through the corridors, down hallways, and up stares. She could not panic here. Not here, not here. Anywhere but here. She stopped and sobs wracked her body, and looked up as the wall before her shifted. She’d walked herself to the Room of Requirement. Hyperventilating, she quickly pulled open the door and slipped inside.
It took her about 15 seconds to realise she was not alone.
“Hermione?” Astoria was seated on a large plush couch next to Blaise.
Astoria
Astoria nearly gasped at the sight before her. Of course, she should’ve gasped when the door to the room of requirement opened- as it was Her and Blaise’s room, and she’d asked not to be disturbed. However, knowledgeable as Astoria was, she knew that the Room had let Hermione in for something. Taking one look at the terrified girl across the room from her, Astoria knew. It was the scar, and somehow, someone Hermione didn't want to find out about it, found out.
Astoria stood up, nodding to Blaise- she liked how easy the two of them communicated- and walked over to Hermione. She tried to be careful, but the moment Hermione realised she was not alone, and in the presence of someone she trusted, she broke. She sunk down to the floor, sobbing and hyperventilating, taking turns between the two.
“Hermione, Hermione it's okay, we know,” Astoria tried to comfort her.
“No you dont.”
“Hermione, we’re just here to help, we know ,” Blaise was closer to Astoria now, as she knelt in front of Hermione.
Hermione barely looked up, pausing her sobs, “You know? How?”
“Draco told us,” Astoria said.
“What.” It was not a question. It was a demand, made out of anger. Astoria had said the wrong thing.
“We were there. We were there when it happened.”
“You were-” she stopped, then started again, disoriented, “He knew. He knew! But that's- it- No. no. I have to go,” She made to stand, but Astoria put her hands on Hermione’s shoulders.
“No Hermione, you can't leave right now, you're having a panic attack.”
“No I have to go- I can't.” Blaise has taken Astoria’s place, trying to calm and restrain Hermione at the same time.
“Astoria, go get Draco,” Astoria stood, “Hermione, you need to just sit down, and we can talk about it.”
“He knew. He knew and he told everyone,” she was still crying. Astoria stopped. Told everyone. Draco would do no such thing- who would he have to tell?
“Hermione, wait- that's not how it was,” Blaise started to explain.
“He told my closest friends, he wasn't even supposed to know!”
“I'm sorry Hermione, I truly am,” Astoria told her as she tried to piece together this conversation, somewhere they had messed up, what had gone wrong?
“Now everyone knows- they'll all know and I can't-” If it were possible, she was crying even harder now, Astoria was surprised she hadn't thrown up yet.
“Hermione draco only told us,” Blaise had his arms wrapped around her and Hermione half struggled to escape, her tears taking most of her focus.
“I'm not talking about Draco!” She stopped thrashing and leaned into Blaise.
“What?”
“Ron! Ron- he fucking- He knew. He fucking knew about it and he wasnt supposed to. It was only an accident and now he's told everyone!”
“How do you know?” Astoria sat down beside her.
“Lavender and Ginny they said, they said, that i- they said-” she had begun to hyperventilate again, and Astoria watched her as Blaise grabbed her right arm, neither of them noticed she’d been scratching, and her jumper was staining through with a pinkish red looking blood.
“Hermone, breathe, it's okay,” Astoria stroked her hair, attempting to calm her down.
“Do you want me and Theo to go after him?” Blaise asks.
“No. No. Oh god! If he's told Ginny then maybe Cormac knows, they'll tell everyone!”
“Hermione, what are you so worried about? What does it matter if everyone knows?”
“Because it’s ugly Blaise, it's disgusting and it's on my arm, forever. Do you know what that's like? Do you even understand-”
Oh Hermione.
“Yes. Hermione, we all know exactly what that’s like.” Blaise never let his anger out, he was always calm and collected, and there were few times when Astoria had seen that hidden anger creep out, she hoped this was not one of those times.
Hermione stared at them, understanding. Of course they all knew what it was like. Of course the Gryffindors would see scars as a sign of weakness. Hermione took a deep breath.
“There’s a difference between a scar, and a mark,” Astoria said.
She knew Hermione understood what she meant. Yes, many other people at Hogwarts had scars, but they were just marks. They didn’t say ‘mudblood’, they weren't twisting black blurs of ink.
While Hermione’s crying subsided, Astoria sent a note whizzing through the castle and to Draco, calling on him. She knew Hermione would want him to be here, to explain what happened. He’d be angry though, no doubt. For Ron to tell someone a secret such as that of Hermione’s. Astoria shook her head, it was unthinkable. Astoria could still remember the day it happened.
She was holding onto pansy as they sat in the corner of the upstairs parlour, Theo had already turned the lights off. Blaise had just come up and told them the snatchers caught who they thought was Potter and his friends, Wealsey and Granger. The mudblood. The four of them now huddled in the farthest reaches of the manor, away from the drawing room. They couldn't hear anything, and they were grateful.
Astoria held this silly notion, that any moment Draco would come back and say, “It wasn’t them, it was someone else. We’re safe another night.”
Astoria purged herself of that wish as he heard the first scream.
“Is that-” Theo started, but Blaise shushed him.
Pansy had started silently weeping against Astoria. The screaming continued, it sounded painful. They knew it was Draco- at least not yet. Astoria had always been good at reading people, and she could tell that Draco Malfoy had a soft spot for Hermione Granger. So Astoria prayed. She prayed to her sister Daphne, to Salazar, to Godric- to Rowena Ravenclaw, for anyone to help them. If Draco couldn't handle it- if that really was Hermione Granger’s screams they heard- she shuddered at the thought that an hour earlier, watching Draco compose himself, them promptly break down upon the news that his aunt Bellatrix would be visiting, then shove it all away with occlumency- that that could’ve been the last time she saw her best friend.
As if sensing her thoughts, Pansy spoke, “If he- if Draco-,” she didn’t know if she could bring herself to say the words, “What will happen to us?”
“He won't. He won’t Pansy. He’ll protect us.” Theo told her.
Astoria didn’t know how long they sat there, listening to her screams and weeping for Hermione Granger. Eventually the screams stopped. And Astoria said a prayer for Hermione’s soul, that it may rest easy, as there was no way she could be alive.
They’d heard nothing for the next hour, distant sounds here and there, yelling possibly. It was hard to tell from across the manor. At some point she recognised that there was sound again, not a scream, but a pained noise, she could sense it. It was Draco, he was likely receiving the cruciatus now, but Bellatrix liked to play. She hoped for the best.
It was another hour before they felt comfortable enough to sit on the sofa, and turn the lights on. The curtains were still drawn, disallowing any light through. A soft knock sounded at the door, and Narcissa slowly opened it and entered. The soft click of her heels rang in Astoria’s ears. She was close to panic. Why was Narcissa collecting them, and not Draco? She looked up.
“Draco is recovering from his punishment of flinching once while the girl was in our possession and being questioned,” she explained.
“Was?” Theo asked.
“Unfortunately, Potter, Weasley, and Granger escaped earlier today, before we could call on the Dark Lord,” the four children breathed a sigh of relief at the news that that wicked evil creature would not be visiting today, “Bellatrix has also opted to leave the estate, as there is nothing here worth staying for.”
“It was really Granger?” Astoria asked.
“I'm afraid so,” Narcissa sat with the children for the remainder of the night, and Draco joined not long after, explaining it all. Five traumatised children, war-torn and terrified, and one woman, determined to protect her children at all costs, prayed for a girl that did not know they even thought of her. They prayed she was alive, and that she’d save them. Some way, somehow.
Draco
Draco had been in the library with Pansy and Theo, studying, making idle conversation, for most of the evening. They had picked a quiet alcove near the back of the library, close to the fiction section. It must’ve been past dinner, as the chatter in the library became louder, and students rushed in to get a book, finish their essays, or gossip with their friends.
None of the three of them had said anything to one another the past half hour, engulfed in their own thoughts. Draco had begun thinking of Hermione, as he often did. The Yule Ball was two days away. He wondered if by some happenstance either Hermione would tell him that she hated him and never speak to him, or he would wake up from this terrible nightmare. This was, of course, the only logical explanation to his current situation. Draco had always been a man of logic. Putting it simply, there's were the facts: one, Hermione Granger was friends with his friends, two, Hermione Granger was no longer friends with most Gryffindorks, save for one Harry Potter, three, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were- friends?, four, Hermione and Draco were together of sorts, how on earth did that happen? These four facts led Draco to believe that he was in fact dreaming, and his mother would shake him awake at any moment.
He was not shaken awake, but rather, interrupted by a frenzy of messy dark hair and glasses. Draco looked up from the book he hadn’t been reading to see Potter standing in front of them, breathing heavily as though he’d just run across the entire Hogwarts grounds- maybe he had, Draco mused.
“Potter,” Theo offered, inviting him to speak. Draco had been sitting in a chair against a bookcase, while Pansy and Theo opted to lay on the floor instead, snagging some plush cushions from some first years.
“Have you guys seen Hermione?” While he didn't seem particularly anxious, the question itself was enough to get their attention.
Pansy and Draco snapped their books shut, Theo sat up.
“What's going on?” Pansy demanded.
“I’m not sure, I tried to find her earlier, i looked in the library, then her dorm, then her classroom, then the great hall, then i thought maybe i'd missed her in her dorm and went back there, then i went down the slytherin dorms-”
“You went to the dungeons?” Draco asked. Potter looked at him as if to say Obviously .
He continued, “Well she wasn't in any of these places, and i couldn’t find you guys either, so i assumed that you had all been off somewhere an if i found you id find her, but here you all are, and here she is not, and I don't know where she is.” Harry drug his hand down his face.
“You were the last to see her Draco,” Pansy said, raising her eyebrows at him.
“It's a little hazy, we walked back to her dorm, and we laid down for a bit, i was so tired, i think maybe i have a concussion,” even now, Draco knew there were some slight remnants of bruises on his jaw and cheekbones. He tried to recall what had happened the past few hours. Hermione had walked him back to her room, and they laid down, and she’d lie with him, and then…and then-
“Oh!” Draco exclaimed, “She told me she was going to grab us something to eat, and that she’d meet us in the library after she found Blaise and Astoria,”. Theo, Pansy, and Potter were looking at Draco as though he’d grown a goose on his head.
“Draco, what time was this?” Pansy asked.
“I'd say, maybe an hour ago?” his response earned three sets of wide eyes- could he count it four sets if he included Potter’s glasses?
“Draco, we’ve been in the library for nearly two hours, mate,” Theo said.
Draco glanced at his watch, and Theo was right it had been almost two hours and-
“Sweet Salazar! Where the hell is Hermione?” He jumped up.
“Now he realised,” Pansy muttered, shaking her head.
The four of them sprung into action packing up their things as quickly as they could, undoubtedly mixing their own things in each other's bags, but truly they didn't mind. Draco berated himself for how stupid he was- how on earth had he not realised Hermione had been gone for too long? Gone for too long…
“Theo you don't think that?” Draco thought of Cormac Fucking McLaggen.
“Don't think that Draco,” Theo was glancing around nervously.
“Fuck,” Pansy closed her bag, “Where is Zabini and Astoria? Shouldn't they be here by now too?”
“Let’s hope they're together?” Harry offered, and Draco looked behind him to notice a piece of paper whizzing through the library. It was in the shape of a little aeroplane, jumping through stacks, around corners, through groups, looking for someone.
With a shock, Draco realised the piece of paper was looking for him.
“Hold on,” He told his friends. They looked at him, and Pansy looked prepared to drag him out of the library when she noticed what he was staring at. Draco snatched the note out of the air and read the hastily but perfectly written note.
D.L.M. -
Granger. Panic Attack. RoR. Please hurry.
Tori
“They're in the Room of Requirement, we’d better go quickly,” Draco explained.
The four of them set off in a pace that would most likely give them detention if it were the middle of the school day. Seeing as it was nearly 8pm on a Wednesday, there weren’t many people patrolling the halls at this time. They passed a prefect- Adrian Pucey, a ravenclaw is Draco recalled correctly, and he took one look and the sight before him: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, together, looking quite determined.
They reached the 7th floor in record time, standing in front of a plain stone wall, willing it to create a door. Draco hoped the Room would give him what he wanted- needed. Hermione. He closed his eyes and focused. Hermione. Herimione. Please. He opened his eyes at the sound of the bricks shifting and giving way to a wooden door that slowly formed out of the way. As soon as he was able, he grasped the cold metal handle and wrenched the door open, Theo, Pansy, and Potter right behind him.
Upon entering the Room he only thought two things. One, Hermione was bleeding, and Two, she was crying. Why was she crying? He rushed over and took Blaise’s place, silently exchanging a conversion.
What happened?
Blaise glanced at Hermione’s arm, Someone found out.
Is it bad?
I think so.
What do I do?
You know what to do.
Draco pulled Hermione further into his arms, tucking her close to his chest. She looked up at him.
Hermione
Hermione wasn't sure when she’d decided she couldn't stop crying, but she accepted the fact that her tears were not going to end anytime soon. She hadn’t cried like this since the day she got this scar. She was so upset and angry, she felt so violated and mutilated. Blaise held her while she cried, and Astoria gently stroked her hair, murmuring soothing words. At some point she realised that there were more people in the room, but she couldn't see who, her eyes were red and puffy, still leaking tears quietly, occasionally sniffling.
Someone else took Blaise’s place and she was about to protest when she saw that it was Draco. She willed herself to smile, though she didn't quite have it in her. She looked up at him, studying his face. His brow was lined with worry, and some strands of his gorgeous platinum hair had fallen in front of his face. She reached up to brush them away, her hand resting on his cheek. He smiled slightly, and used his thumb to wipe away her tears, though it was wholly useless, as Hermione’s entire cheek was wet from an hour of crying.
“You’re absolutely charming when you cry, you know that?”
Hermione laughed, as she knew she was not in fact charming, her eyes were red, and there was no doubt so much snot running from her nose at this very moments, and the absurdity that Draco could think she was adorable at this time was so hilarious that she just had to laugh.
“You look adorably handsome when you’re worried about me.”
“How can I not worry when you live such a lifestyle as your own?”
Sitting there in that room, the weight of the war pressing down on her, the burning in her arm, the evil festering within her. She looked up at Draco, his eyes shining with something more than just pure adoration. She realised that she would have to tell him one of two truths she’d discovered.
“Draco,” She started, and wondered if he’d let her continue, if he could sense that she was about to break his heart.
“Yes darling?”
“Draco, I think I'm dying.” I love you - that's what she had meant to say.
“Oh, Hermione.”
Did he know? Draco looked up at Astoria, or Blaise- Hermione wasn’t sure. She wasn't sure what he’d asked, or what they said, but she could tell it wasnt good. Draco pushed a breath through his teeth, looking down again at Hermione. He tucked a few loose curls behind her hair.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he told her. She knew it would be just fine, she was in his arms after all. There was something else she wanted him to tell Harry.
“Harry?” he was beside her in an instant, and Hermione felt exhausted.
“I told her off. Ginny. I said what I needed to say, and I- I said if she ever tried to hurt any of my friends, i'd kill her.”
Harry held her hand, smiling. Draco picked her up, presumably to take her back to her room. She saw Pansy, who gave her a devilish smirk.
“She’s just tired Draco, she’s okay for now,” Astoria told him.
That was the last thing she remembered before she drifted off to sleep.
Draco
While he had no clue what he was expecting when he burst into the Room of Requirement, it certainly was not Hermione telling him that.
I think I'm dying.
How could this possibly be? He knew, of course, it was the fault of his insane aunt. It was that cursed scar on her arm. Astoria had told him that she thought it was covered in dark magic, that he should write to his mother, see what Narcissa could do about it. As he carried Hermione back to the girls’ dorm, it was late now, and no one was in the halls at this hour. He laid her on her bed and gently tugged her jumper off, grabbing a wet cloth to clean up the blood from the scratch marks on her arm. He tucked her into bed and had Pansy and Harry watch over her.
He had a letter to write.